Page 21 of Escape

I snort, flicking a bit of soapy water his way. “And what, magically find someone who meets your absurd standards?”

“Exactly,” he says, catching the plate as I pass it to him. “Someone who can hold an actual conversation, for starters. Maybe a guy who knows that reading doesn’t stop at Instagram captions.” He is trying to make light of the situation but the serious undertone is there. We both know this is not just a joke.Last night was a close call. If I had gone to the guy’s place rather than ours, God knows what would have happened.

“Right,” I say. “And I suppose he should have a perfect job and be able to cook better than me too?”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” he quips, smirking. “But let’s aim higher, shall we?”

“Oh, please,” I retort, grabbing another plate. “What else, then? A decent haircut? A love of indie music?”

“Not bad,” he replies, chuckling, but then his grin softens, and he sets the plate down on the counter. “But, seriously? Someone who looks out for you.”

His voice shifts, quieter but steady, and I glance at him, caught off guard by the sudden change.

“Someone who’s there for you,” he continues, meeting my eyes. “Not just when things are easy, but when it’s messy. Someone who doesn’t just say the right things but actually shows up.”Someone like you. The words almost slip out. Instead I open my mouth to make a joke, but he holds up a hand, cutting me off gently.

“Someone who wants to be your partner,” he says, his tone firm but not pushing. “Not just someone trying to get into your knickers. Someone who, even when you argue, even when things aren’t perfect, you know they’ll be there if you need them.”

I swallow hard, my chest tightening at his words.

“And someone,” he finishes, leaning back against the counter, softening his voice, “who actually wants to share life with you. Not just the good bits, but all of it.”

I look down at the soapy water in the sink, my hands still gripping the sponge. It’s like he says out loud all the things I once dreamed about and somehow, over the years, got lost or forgotten.

“That’s a tall order,” I whisper.No, it’s not! He is right here!

Owen shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smile. “Maybe. But you deserve it.”

He takes a step closer. His eyes meet mine, steady and intent, and for a moment, the world narrows down to just this, us, here in the kitchen, just us.

“Maybe,” he says softly, his voice like a warm breeze cutting through the stillness, “you need someone who looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world.”

My breath catches, my heart picking up speed in my chest.

He means the way he is looking at me right now.

He lifts a hand slowly, brushing a stray curl away from my face with a gentleness that sends a shiver down my spine. “Someone who you can’t stop thinking about,” he continues, his fingers lingering just slightly against my temple. “Someone you crave to touch you, to hold you... someone who sets off butterflies every time they’re close.”

Like on command, the butterflies take flight, sharp and insistent, and I realise I’m holding my breath. The words hang between us, unexpected and charged.

His hand drops back to his side, but his eyes never leave mine. My fingers twitch, the sponge forgotten in the sink, and before I can think better of it, I take a step forward, closing the last of the distance between us.

My hands move almost on their own, sliding up to his shoulders, then curling around the back of his neck. His breath hitches, his body tensing for just a moment as I pull him closer.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if we’re both afraid to cross the line we’ve been dancing around. But then his hands come up, one settling lightly on my waist, the other cupping the side of my face, and everything else fades away.

It’s not just a kiss. It’s everything unspoken, everything we’ve avoided, everything that’s been building between us.

When we finally pull back, our breaths are unsteady, our foreheads touching. I'm not sure how long we stand there, our foreheads pressed together, our breaths mingling in the air. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving only the two of us in this intimate bubble of space and time. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, matching the rapid rhythm of my own.

His hand cups my face, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my cheek. There's a hunger in his touch, a need that matches the fire raging within me. It's as if we've both been holding backfor so long, denying ourselves this connection, and now that the floodgates have been opened, there's no stopping the rush of emotions.

I lean into his touch, relishing the warmth and familiarity. It's strange how something as simple as a hand on my face can make me feel so vulnerable yet so safe at the same time. It's like he's reaching into the depths of my soul, unravelling all my fears and insecurities with each stroke of his thumb.

"This is a dream come true," he whispers, his voice filled with so much raw desire that it sends shivers down my spine. "I've wanted you for so long."

The words hang in the air between us, filled with meaning and intent. It's a confession wrapped in desire, a declaration of everything he's kept hidden until now. And it lights a fire within me that threatens to consume us both.

"I want you too," I breathe out, and the moment the words leave my lips, I know they’re true. I’d buried these feelings so deep I almost convinced myself they weren’t there.

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